


Hold Me Close, Don't Let Go (Watch Me Burn)

by BisexualNerd



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I've made Tim sad for too many times already, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Joker is dead in here guys, btw I was sad so I made Jay sad, nothing graphic but it's mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualNerd/pseuds/BisexualNerd
Summary: Jason has killed the Joker.His job here is done.There's no need for him anymore.Good.He can go now.But apparently, Bruce and Tim can be a pain in the ass.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Everyone, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 25
Kudos: 359





	Hold Me Close, Don't Let Go (Watch Me Burn)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all of you beautiful people. I'm really sorry for this, but one day, I was without Internet connection and I was sad, so I wrote this.
> 
> Well, actually, I found a poem I wrote 2 years ago while things were bad. And I wanted to write a short fic for Jay and Tim. Somehow, it turns out different but it's okay.
> 
> I have a really strong feeling that this is influenced a lot by one of my older fics, Restless Heart Syndrome. That was for Tim but well, it does has a pretty similar plot, to some extent.
> 
> Title is from the song Hospital For Souls by Bring Me The Horizon.

He has done it. He has actually done it. He still can't believe that he has done it...

  
He has successfully killed the Joker.

  
Put a bullet between the Crime Prince's eyes and all.

  
He has done it.

  
He has killed his killer.

  
He has got his revenge.

  
He has killed the Joker...

  
Jason stumbles into his room, crashing against the foot of his bed.

  
The shouting match between Bruce and him is still ringing in his ears.

  
The man has called him reckless and impulsive...

  
...but no word on his most precious rule: No killing.

  
Weird.

  
He gets out of his armour and pants. He has forgotten to change while being downstairs. To be fair, he was in middle of a crisis and a really bad argument with the man he considers his father.

  
The eerie silence chases away the ghosts of Bruce's and his voices earlier. Everything is too quiet.

  
Jason feels drained. Exhausted.

  
**Empty.**

  
Everything he has done, all of them, only for this. For the final killshot he has saved for _him_.

  
He finally gets the sweet taste of revenge he has craved for so long.

  
Except... 

  
...it isn't sweet.

  
It's still bitter and all he feels now is the hollow void inside his chest.

  
He thinks he knows what this means.

  
He has fulfilled the purpose of his existence.

  
The fucker is gone, everyone is happy (or will be soon) and he's not needed anymore.

  
He has eliminated the worst thing that has ever happened to Gotham.

  
He isn't needed anymore.

  
Good.

  
He's so fucking tired.

  
There has been a plan, which he has made since the first night he got the Pit madness down to a certain level.

  
His mind was clear that night, though still full of death, destruction and vengeance. And he had figured out what he needed and wanted to do before, well...

  
The death should stay death after all. Ra's al Ghul has been the example why. He need to do this fast.

  
He doesn't really want to waste his time.

  
Fuck Bruce and his morals but he can't go without saying goodbye to some people.

  
Jason tidies his room up, putting his vigilante stuff into a box. By now, it's already half past two in the morning.

  
All should be asleep, maybe except for the Big Bat himself. Screw him anyway.

  
He goes to Alfred's room first.

  
Jason didn't dare going in. He just cracks the door slightly open to catch a glimpse of the   
sleeping man.

  
He feels like the world's worst grandchild ever.

  
Seeing that the man is still soundly sleeping, the young vigilante closes the door with a soft sigh on his lips and walks away. It's best not waking up the man. He's probably too tired dealing with everyone's shit throughout the day already.

  
He skips Bruce's room. Doesn't feel like seeing the man anyway.

  
Damian's room then. Chill runs down his spine when his hand touches the doorknob.

  
Damian and he are no way close siblings. The very few similarities they share are probably their high body counts and their anger issue. Not really positive similarities.

  
Damian is curling up with his pets on the large bed. Titus is by his feet, Alfred the cat is snuggling against the boy's left side with the goddamn turkey on the right.

  
Jason doesn't come in either. Damian sleeps light. Good thing his door didn't creak.

  
He finds Dick's room next.

  
Like Bruce, Dick is a pretty heavy sleeper. Not as heavy as the man, but heavy enough for Jason to step in the room without waking the acrobat.

  
He puts his right hand on top of the nightstand, tapping fingers gently, just loud enough to make some noises. Morse code.

  
_"Thanks for being my big brother. And for killing the Joker that one time even though he didn't stay dead."_ He means to say that.

  
Part of him takes the joy in knowing that. The rest, however, is feeling glad that it has been him who really killed the Joker. Bruce doesn't want blood on Dick's hands, and neither does Jason.

  
Tentatively, he turns around and walks to the door, only spares one last glance at his sleeping brother. Jason closes the door with a soft click, then moves to the next room.

  
Cass's.

  
He doesn't know much about Cass. Only recently has he really got close to know her. And around the time she was adopted, he was still running around killing every bad guy he could.

  
Cass doesn't hold that against him much.

  
She has been...understanding. He remembers Tim telling him that she has only killed once before, and for that, she ran away from the monster named David Cain.

  
But she understands nonetheless.

  
He doesn't come in. The door only opens so slightly. Like Damian, she's a light sleeper. He's pretty sure if the door ever makes one tiny sound, she would wake up right away and his plan would be ruined.

  
He leaves a short moment later. There's only one room left.

  
Tim prefers his room far from others', all the way at the end of the hallway. He enjoys the peace and silence that helps him work.

  
Tim isn't exactly a light or heavy sleeper. A decent amount of sound will wake the kid up. Guess Tim's finally normal at something.

  
Jason pushes the door open and gets in with a swift movement. Still, he almost knocks down Tim's skateboard, which he has caught in time.

  
He puts the skateboard down and moves closer to his brother's bed. The younger boy has broken his leg two days ago in an encounter with Two-face and is tired all the time with all his other injuries.

  
So he thinks Tim wouldn't wake up even if he makes more noises than usual.

  
Jason settles down on the floor, a few inches away from the bed and the sleeping figure.

  
"Hey kid," He whispered. "I'm sorry."

  
He takes a deep breath, listening to the silence before starting again.

  
"If it means anything, you're probably my favorite sibling. But I'm...abnormal. What dead should should stay dead, and I'm overstaying here for too long anyway. I've done what I had to. I should go. See you later, kid. Hopefully not too soon."

  
He stands up, and after a moment of hesitation, he says.

  
"I'm sorry. I love you."

  
A long creaking sound reaches his ears as he tries to close the door.

  
Tim twitches from under his comforter and blue eyes flutter open.

  
So much for thinking Tim is tired.

  
"Jason?" Tim asks groggily.

  
"Go back to sleep Timmy. Sorry I woke you up."

  
"Hmm 'kay. G'night..."

  
Thinking Tim has fallen back to sleep already, Jason whispers back.

  
"Goodbye kid."

  
And he makes his way to the cave.

* * *

Tim's still awake after Jason has left. He has heard the last word.

  
His brother was acting completely out of character. It's...unsettling.

  
Jason has called him Timmy.

  
Only Dick, Cass and Bruce call him that. Jason never calls him Timmy.

  
And he has said _"goodbye"_ , not _"goodnight"._

  
He knew something was up with his brother the moment he opened his eyes and saw Jason by the doorway. 

  
He knew it was not good when Jason called him Timmy.

  
And definitely bad when Jason said goodbye.

  
Tim yanks his phone out from the charger to call someone. With his broken leg, he wouldn't be able to follow Jason to wherever he's going.

  
All of them always have their phones on silence. Except for Bruce. It's bad habit keeping their phones on silence but you know, this generation is weird.

  
Tim waits. After 6 seconds, his dad picks up.

  
"B? B, I need you to go after Jason."

  
"Why?" Bruce's voice sounds a bit hoarse.

  
"I think something's wrong. Please Dad. I know you two fought earlier but he' was acting very weird and I'm really worried. I just don't want him to do anything stupid. Dad, please."

  
There's a soft shuffling sound from the other side and after a second too long, he hears Bruce speaking again.

  
"Do you know where he is now?"

  
"I don't. But I think he might be in the cave or the rooftop." The two hotspots for orphans in distress. And Bruce's room too, of course, but Jason is definitely not there. "Didn't you put a tracker in him the last time he got injured or something?"

  
Bruce mutters a curse.

  
"I forgot. Fuck." Wow, his dad just outright swore like that. "He's in the cave but I think he's leaving. I'll call you later. Get some sleep sweetheart."

  
"Okay." But he knows he won't be able to sleep.

  
Bruce hangs up and Tim reaches for his crutches. He may not be able to reach Jason in time, but he'll be there for his brother anyway.

* * *

Jason kicks a sock on the floor and grabs a gun. It'll be a bit messy but it'll work better than other methods. He opens his phone to shoot Bruce a quick text on where to find him, or better, his body. The man will see it in the morning.

  
He throws the phone to the couch and makes a beeline to the bedroom. He then sits on the bed and stares at the gun in his hands. 

  
It's his favourite. Usually people would keep their favourite things safely tucked away so their loved ones can have it, but he doubts anyone in his family would want a gun.

  
Jason takes a deep breath. The gun feels heavier and heavier every second. Better do it quick then, or he'll lose his courage, or the gun will feel heavy enough to fall to the floor.  
He raised the gun, slowly but surely, to his temple.

  
This is it. He breathes deeply. In and out.

  
Jason's arm shakes a little, his mouth feels dried and his throat tightens.

  
He counts, silently.

  
5...4...3...

  
"Jason."

  
He freezes, the gun feels dead weight in his hand but not moving. He stares ahead, eyes focusing on the crack on the wall.

  
He should do something. He should hide the gun and chase Bruce out of his house then go back to carrying out his plan.

  
But he can't move. He can't breathe out or breathe in. Bruce is gonna find him soon and he can't do anything.

  
"Jason..." The man's voice is closer now, as if he's just by the door of his bedroom.

  
"Jay...son..."

  
He breathes in, finally.

  
"Bruce."

  
"Jaybird, put the gun down, son."

  
He holds still, the gun never leaves his temple.

  
"Please sweetheart. Put the gun down." The man voice is soft, soft and comforting. He should put the gun down. Right now. But he can't move his hand, he can't lower the gun, he feels like he's been paralyzed.

  
Bruce moves closer, slow but steady footsteps let Jason know where the man is.

  
Bruce gets in his line of vision, a few feet away but close enough to touch him if the man wants to.

  
He doesn't touch Jason, however. But he puts both of forward, palms facing out like he's confronting a wild animal.

  
"Can you give me the gun, Jay?"

  
Jason stares at the man. A few hours earlier they were fighting and spitting words dripping of venom at each other (mostly it was just him at Bruce), and now his father? is speaking to him in the gentlest way he can.

  
Jason blinks numbly. His hand hasn't moved and is now aching.

  
"Sweetheart, please give me the gun. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry we fought. You know I'm not actually mad at you for killing _him_ , right? Son, I was worried. You were putting your life on the line trying to kill _him_ , and I never, ever want to see you getting hurt trying to do something. You are my son, and I've lost you once before. I don't want to lose you again Jason. Not because of _him_ , not because of the Pit, not because of my own idiocy, not because of anything. I need you sweetheart. I _want_ you, Jay. I do want the boy who was once taken away from me, but I want you more. The person you are now, Red Hood and everything else. I just wish you didn't have to bear this burden, to grow up so fast, to have blood on your hands because I've failed you. Jason, please look at me and listen to me. Son, I love you, I love you so much and I need you to live. I **need** you to give me the gun. Jay, please."

  
He can feel the wetness rolling down on his cheeks. His hand shakes, badly. Inch by inch, he lowers the gun, Bruce's eyes never leaving him. As soon as the gun is on the bed and his hand loosens, Bruce grabs the gun with lightning speed and takes it apart before throwing all the pieces to a corner and pulls him close.

  
He buries his face in his dad's neck and his trembling hanfs are fisting the man's shirt. He cries freely, letting the tears out like water of a broken dam.

  
Bruce is mumbling something into his hair, which is now feeling a bit damp. So the man is crying too. Somehow, the information kinda makes him feel a bit better.

  
Bruce is now rubbing circles on his back with one hand, the other cradling one side of his head, fingers gently stroking his hair.

  
It feels nice.

  
He feels so comfortable and sleepy now.

  
Jason wipes his tears away as his face leaves Bruce's neck. The hand on the side of his head moves to cup his cheek instead and through the dim light in his bedroom, he can see Bruce's blue eyes staring back at him.

  
Those eyes usually make him tense, or angry even. But now they just make him feel sad and loved at the same time.

  
"How are you now sweetheart?"

  
He sniffles and licks his chapped lips.

  
"I'm pretty good now." Jason pauses. "I'm sorry."

  
Callous fingers stroke the itching skin of his cheek and Bruce speaks again.

  
"There's nothing to be sorry about sweetheart. Even though you kind of gave me a heart attack, the blame is on me. I was so worried and I lost my head, then I fought with you. I should never have done that. I'm sorry, son."

  
"Hmm yea." He said easily. "It's _all_ on you, old man."

  
"Really? Even that pudding cake you ate yesterday behind Alfred's back? That's on me too?"

  
"Yup. You stressed me out so I needed to eat something. It's on you Dad."

  
Bruce freezes and he realizes what he just did.

  
The deafening silence drowns out anything he has wanted to say. Then Bruce smiles.

  
Like, a full smile. Wide with visible teeth and everything. 

  
Which is rather disturbing.

  
Jason blinks fast, trying to proceed whatever is happening. Because this is scary.

  
"Oh gosh." Bruce hugs him tight and Jason lets out an embarrassing squeak.

  
"I love you Jay. I love you so much, son."

  
"Yeah, got it. Got it." This is so weird.

  
Bruce pulls away and he's forced to look at those eyes again.

  
"Let's go home." The man says. "Tim must be worrying sick."

  
"Tim? Wait. That's how you know to find me." The little shit is still sneakier than he has thought, even after all these years of dealing with him.

  
"Hmm. Your brother, is truly a wonder. I'll drive, and you call him for me, okay?"

  
"Fine." He grumbles a little.

  
Bruce reaches the door first and Jason suddenly blurts out.

  
"Hey uh..."

  
"Yes sweetheart?"

  
"Just...I love you too Dad."

  
Bruce smiles again, and Jason can't help but do it too. It's going to be fine, for he has his dad here with him now.

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> So how was it? I tried to make the ending as happy as possible to cancel out the angst earlier in the fic. Hope it worked. 
> 
> The poem (which was written like a letter to my little sister) is pretty edgy and a bit embarrassing, but if anyone is interested, I can put it on my Tumblr and redirect you to it.
> 
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks are all treasure here ❤
> 
> I'm always available on Tumblr. You can find me at [@bisexualnerd](https://bisexualnerd.tumblr.com/). It'd be lovely to have anyone dropping into my messages or ask box. Or if you need anyone to talk to, don't be afraid to message me. I'd always be happy to help 😃  
> See ya all later ❤


End file.
